Walls
by AuroraReedus
Summary: A Daryl/Carol story.
1. Chapter 1

Walls: Chapter 1

"Daryl?" Carol called in her soft voice. "Beth and I made lunch, come eat." She walked across the prison yard searching for him when, suddenly, she heard a groan coming from an alley between two barracks a few feet ahead. Her body went cold with fear. There hadn't been any walkers on the prison grounds in the two weeks since they'd arrived, but it sounded like there was one now. She started to turn and get help when she heard the soft whispering voices. Whoever it was in that alley, it wasn't a walker. Curiosity overtook her and she moved cautiously forward to peer around the wall. Then she saw them. Daryl had Michonne pinned against the wall, thrusting into her, his calloused hands exploring her entire body. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her fingernails dug into his well-muscled back as she groaned expletives in his ear. Neither one of them noticed her. Her breath caught. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned and dashed back to the kitchens.

"Where's Daryl?" Glenn asked as she walked into the room. "…and Michonne?" Andrea piped in. "They're not coming" she choked out and, without any further words she hurried to her cell before she broke down. She collapsed onto her cot and sobbed quietly. She'd been a fool to think that this wouldn't happen, to think that he actually cared about her like that. Ever since Andrea had turned up at prison with this new girl, Michonne, she'd noticed a change in Daryl. This girl was young, beautiful, mysterious, and strong; all things that Carol was not. She'd seen Daryl take notice of Michonne, seen the way he'd look at her out of the corner of his eye. She'd tried to ignore it though. She told herself that he cared about her. He'd tried so hard to find Sophia and had reacted so strongly to her grief. He'd look into her eyes with that intense stare and she was sure he felt something for her. He'd shown a level of passion toward her that Ed never had. Even when he was angry at her, she'd gotten the feeling that he cared. She knew that he was emotionally broken and so she'd stepped back, waiting for him to find the right moment to come to her. But that was all just stupid, empty hope. He didn't see her like that. Why should he? She was six years older than him, boring, and plain. If anything he saw her as a mother figure. She knew that now and it broke her heart. She sobbed until she couldn't sob anymore and finally fell quiet and stared at the ceiling.

Twenty minutes later Daryl entered the kitchen as the others were finishing up their lunch. Michonne had slinked off to be by herself. She didn't hang around the others much. He grabbed himself a sandwich and took a seat between T-Dog and Brian, one of the inhabitants of the prison. He glanced around the room, seeking out her face as always and noticed that she wasn't there. "Where's Carol?" he asked. "In her cell, she didn't stay for lunch. She seemed upset" Lori answered. "What ails her?" he demanded in his gravelly drawl. "I don't know" she replied. He just shrugged it off, but inside he was worried about her. It bothered him how much he'd come to care for Carol. Michonne was just someone to fuck. She didn't mean anything to him and he didn't mean anything to her. Hell, he hadn't even had to kiss her. They'd just ravaged each other's bodies for release to satisfy their urges with no emotional connection. That's how it had always been with the women in his past. He was comfortable with that. Things were different with Carol, however. He'd never felt this kind of connection to anyone before and he had no idea how to handle it. He found himself wanting to hold her and protect her. That wasn't something he was used to and it scared him. She'd told him that he was worth something and, in his heart he wanted to believe her, but he couldn't. All his life he'd been told he was trash. She was wrong about him. He wasn't good enough for her. He'd lashed out at her a few too many times as a result of the confusion he felt and so he'd finally resorted to avoiding her. He couldn't help seeking out her face whenever he entered a room, though. Now she wasn't here and he was worried. So, after he finished his meal, he decided to find her and make sure she was ok.

She heard footsteps approach her cell and knew that it was him. She could tell by the steady stride and the pounding of his boots. He rapped his knuckles against the bars and she said "come in" without removing her eyes from the ceiling. She couldn't bear to look at him. "You alright?" he mumbled. "I'm fine, just fine" she stammered, unconvincingly. "Why won't you at lunch?" he demanded. "Oh, so you noticed" she said coolly. He stood there in silence with his arms crossed. He knew she was upset, but he didn't know what to do about it. He wanted her to feel better, but didn't know how to comfort her. She sat up suddenly and stared at him. "So, you and Michonne?" she asked, surprising herself as well as him. "What about us?" he growled. "I saw you two earlier" she replied. He felt a sudden surge of annoyance. He was annoyed at her for meddling and even more annoyed with himself, knowing that his actions had somehow hurt her. "What about it? We were just blowing off some steam. This 'spose to be some kinda guilt trip? If it is, it ain't workin'" he snarled. He glared at her through squinted eyes. "Why do you care anyhow?" he demanded. She studied him for a moment, trying to work out the source of his anger. Finally, she got up and reached toward him. He flinched, but she just grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. "It's ok, Daryl" she said softly and walked out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Carol thought about him throughout the rest of the day. At dinner he didn't meet her gaze even once. So, as everyone was settling into bed, she decided to go talk to him. She found him in his cell. He was dressed only in a pair of faded, dirty jeans. His sleeveless shirt lay discarded in the corner. His muscles rippled in his back as he stooped to smooth out the covers on his cot. She cleared her throat softly, "Daryl?" He straightened up and turned to look at her with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, what do you want?" he said. "I just wanted to apologize for acting so strange earlier." "You got nothin' to apologize for" he said gruffly. "Yes, I do." She said. "It was unfair of me to act that way and try to make you feel guilty. I know you don't have feelings for me, and…" "I didn't say that," he interrupted. She looked at him with widened eyes and he suddenly felt angry at himself for saying that. He hadn't meant to, it just slipped out. "So…you do have feelings for me?" she asked hesitantly. "I didn't say that neither. Don't put words in my mouth, lady" he said angrily, crossing his arms. He felt vulnerable all of a sudden and hoped she'd turn around and leave. She just stood there and studied his face, contemplating his words. Then she made up her mind and walked towards him slowly. She had nothing else to lose anyway.

She placed her hand on his side and he jumped, flinching as though expecting a blow, but she didn't remove her hand. She traced her fingers gently along the scars that ran up his entire torso. He didn't pull away from her touch, but he lowered his eyes, ashamed, anticipating the questions that he wasn't prepared to answer but were sure to come. He waited for her to make this about his daddy or some shit like that, but he wasn't some pussy bitch and he wasn't going to start whining to her about a few beatings he'd gotten as a kid either. It wasn't any of her goddamn business. She remained silent however. She just met his gaze and looked into his eyes quietly. She didn't need to ask. She knew where the scars came from. She had a few scars of her own. Her touch got firmer as she traced the scars from his ribcage up to his strong, broad shoulders, absorbing his past as she read the raised lines like braille. She lowered her head and brushed her lips lightly against a scar in the shape of a cigarette burn on his chest, keeping her eyes locked onto his. He started pull away from the unfamiliar intimate gesture, but she kept her hands on his shoulders and continued to place small kisses along his collarbone, taking in his scent of earth, sweat, and bourbon. He closed his eyes and leaned into her as her lips moved up onto his neck. He wasn't used to this and it made him uncomfortable, but it also felt amazing. It was warm and safe in a way that he'd never experienced. He gave in and wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned down to return her kisses, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck until she was weak in the knees. She raised her head and their lips met. The kiss was soft and chaste to begin with but quickly got more urgent. Their lips crashed together as his tongue sought entry into her mouth.

They drank each other in for several minutes before they pulled apart, heated and flustered and wanting each other more than ever. He reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it gently over her head, then undid her bra and let it fall to the floor. He grabbed her left breast firmly in his large hand, his thumb tracing her nipple and bent down to take her right nipple into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue. She let out a soft whimper and leaned back. He led her over to the cot and began to undo the button on her jeans, slowly lowering them along with her panties while she laid on the cot, propping herself up on her elbows waiting for him. He undid his own jeans and kicked them away hurriedly before lowering himself down on top of her. He ran his hands all along her thin body as he positioned himself in between her legs. She arched her back and moaned in pleasure as he inched himself into her slowly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him forcefully, panting heavily. He buried his face in the cook of her neck and grunted as he began to thrust harder and faster. She met his thrusts pace for pace, sighing at the delicious friction. The sensation pooled within her core and she bit her lip and fluttered her eyes as the first wave of climax overtook her. He felt her tighten around him and quickened his pace furiously until he was climaxing with her. They collapsed in a heap, pouring with sweat and laid there for several minutes, holding each other.

"I have to go" he said after a few minutes, pulling away from her. She looked at him, feeling slightly hurt that he wanted to leave, but he was already standing up and reaching for his clothes. He pulled on his jeans and then looked down at her and caught the expression on her face. He leaned down and kissed her soothingly on the cheek before turning to leave the cell. She watched him leave, feeling conflicted. He wasn't comfortable yet cuddling with her, so she knew that she hadn't succeeded in fully breaking down his walls, but she'd made a start. In this broken world, with these two broken people, she knew that was more than she could have rightfully expected. She rolled over and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. She didn't know where their relationship would go from here, but she felt the first glimmer of hope that she'd had in a long time.


End file.
